


Peter's nightmare

by OrionCohen



Category: Ender's Game - All Media Types
Genre: Buggers and Astronauts, Ender Wiggin - Freeform, Ender/peter - Freeform, Gen, Peter Wiggin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:40:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22077862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrionCohen/pseuds/OrionCohen
Summary: In which Peter has a bad dream.
Kudos: 9





	Peter's nightmare

It always started the same way: with a game of Buggers and Astronauts.  
Ender was always the bugger, Peter was always the astronaut.  
Ender always appeared as Peter has last seen him, a little boy who had not yet been to space, not yet been saddled with the burden of winning an adult war, whose greatest concern was what his bully of an older brother would do to him next. Peter, however, was not the ten year old boy Ender had last seen but the teenager he’d grown into since Ender left for Battle School, a more methodical, more manipulative, and far more powerful version of his childhood self.  
It only ever took a single blow to put Ender on the ground. Peter had his left elbow pinned to Ender’s right shoulder and his left wrist reaching all the way to Ender’s left shoulder. Peter put his right hand flat on Ender’s stomach.  
Peter leaned forward and whispered into Ender's ear “How hard do you think I’d have to press to get you to stop breathing?”  
“Peter, please” Ender begged in a whiny little voice “Peter, stop, please, stop” Peter was in control now, he relished in it, savoring the rush it gave him.  
“Stop, please, Peter, please, stop, please, stop” Peter mocked in a whiny impression of Ender.  
Peter knew the guilt would hit him later, it always did. But for now he enjoyed the control. He pivoted his left elbow, keeping Ender pinned at the shoulder but raising his hand so he could pull the bugger mask of Ender’s head. He wanted to see the fear, he wanted confirmation that the control he had wasn’t just physical.  
But instead, Ender wore a look of steady, almost unnerving, calm.  
“Why did you kill me?” Ender asked in a sweet and innocent voice.  
Peter felt a bead of dread in his stomach, the guilt was starting to come. He looked down at Ender’s stomach and saw his hand was no longer pressed against it flat, it was holding a knife which was buried to the hilt in Ender’s gut. Blood blossomed over Ender’s little abdomen, soaking his shirt and pants, pooling on the floor.  
“No! No, I didn’t mean to!” Peter cried.  
“Why did you kill me?” The question came again in Ender’s little boy voice.  
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! I was never trying to hurt you! I was never trying to hurt you!” Peter cried desperately.  
Ender’s skin was getting cold and turning blue, his muscles getting stiff, his eyes glazing over and emptying out.  
"Why did you kill me? Why did you kill me? Why did you kill me?" Ender was just a corpse now, completely motionless, but his voice still rung in Peter's ears.  
It was at about this point that Peter always woke up, some nights it was with a cry, other nights with a scream, tonight it was with a soft whimper and a jolt. The image of his dead brother lurked on the inside of Peter’s eyelids.  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to” Peter whispered, knowing his apology had no bearing on the boy who was indeed alive, millions of miles away on a space station.


End file.
